Once Brothers
by Rose Starre
Summary: Everything changed when Seth turned his back on the Shield. Conversely, in the days before that fateful night, the Shield had been as close as could be. Yet, although they refuse to speak of days long past, they must admit their status as brothers. However grudgingly they do so.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I do not own the WWE or the Shield.**

Yet another Monday Night Raw had come and gone. Dean Ambrose, Roman Reigns, and Seth Rollins, formerly a nearly indestructible three-man tag team, began to make their way to their respective hotels. After Seth had metaphorically stabbed the two others in the back, they hadn't considered themselves on friendly enough terms to continue their tag team, once a rather literal Shield from injustice. Now, there was just pain and borderline insanity.

However much the three former Shield brothers despised spending any length of time together in one place, Fate had other plans for them. Terrible gusts of wind raised the usually peaceful snow into a raging torrent, making driving near impossible. Dean gripped the wheel tightly and clenched his teeth. He, for one, was not going to let this beat him.

Roman, who was seated next to the proclaimed Lunatic Fringe, peered uneasily outside. As someone who had spent a large portion of his life in Florida, he did not trust his own driving skills to get him safely through snowy conditions. Dean, however, had been born and raised in Ohio, making him quite used to these situations.

The rental car rumbled over the snow-covered streets. The plows had not cleared them yet, making conditions unstable and slippery. Somewhere down a dark road bordered on one side by a ditch and multiple trees, they came across a marooned vehicle. Someone stood outside in the snow, trying to flag them down for assistance.

Dean was not in any mood to stop and help anybody. But, as stated previously, Fate had other plans. The stranded car's flashing hazard lights distracted him and he inadvertently turned the wheel just enough to produce a response from the tires. Unable to find purchase, the car slid and wound up with one tire stuck hopelessly in the snow-filled ditch.

Now angry at the driver of the stranded car, Dean stormed outside to give them a piece of his mind. Roman, however, stayed behind, but was ready to jump out and save the stranger should Dean become too violent.

Striding purposefully through the blizzard, Dean approached the stranded driver. "Do you see what happens when you don't drive carefully?" he snapped. "Because of you and your bright lights, I'm stuck here too!"

"Dean Ambrose," the supposed stranger growled, sounding distrustful and terribly familiar.

"Rollins," Dean spat. "Should have known it was you. If I still had the choice, I would leave you here to slowly freeze to death."

"You're stranded here too," Seth retorted. "Admit it. We're stuck in the same boat."

"This is all your fault!" Dean shouted. "If you would have watched the road, we wouldn't be here right now."

"I didn't know the road curved here," Seth explained heatedly. "The snow was too heavy."

"Please," Dean snorted, "You can't blame all your problems on the weather."

Roman saw the verbal fight intensifying outside and decided that then would be a good time to step in. He exited the vehicle and approached the scuffling duo. "Guys," he said, "That's enough with the fighting. We're all stuck here. If anything, we'll need to coexist peacefully for a few hours until help arrives. Is that too much to ask?"

"You brought Roman with you?" Seth cried. "Really?"

Puzzled at this statement, Roman was about to question as to who this person was. Before he could, however, the hazard lights briefly illuminated Seth's face. The answer to his unasked question then became quite clear. "Seth got stranded here?" he enquired.

"Yes," Dean hissed. "Just my luck."

"So, now what?" Roman asked.

"Well, if we don't want to freeze to death," Seth mused, "We'll have to stay in the cars until help arrives."

"Okay," Dean snapped. "But don't expect me to get into a car with you." With that, he stormed off and reentered his rental car, slamming the door behind him.

"I should go calm him down," Roman said, following the Lunatic Fringe. Having expected nothing less, Seth shrugged and climbed back into his own rental vehicle.

The former Shield stayed like this for almost half an hour. Nothing besides the snow stirred outside the two marooned vehicles. In fact, the scene was almost peaceful. Then, the battery in Seth's rental car suddenly died, leaving him in the frigid darkness.

Seth tried to do everything he could to stay warm without joining the other two in their functional car. He wanted to make sure there were no other options available before he faced the awaiting wrath of Dean Ambrose. Unfortunately, the cold cruelly seeped in through the windows. He knew he wouldn't be able to last more than ten minutes before being degraded to nothing more than a humanoid ice cube.

After checking for any blankets in the back seat and trunk one last time (to no avail), Seth trudged unwillingly towards the other idling vehicle. He tapped hesitantly on Dean's window, signaling for him to open it. Dean noticeably rolled his eyes, but did as asked. "What now?" he snapped.

"The battery in my rental died," Seth replied sheepishly.

"And?" Dean enquired, eyebrows raised.

"Could I come in?" Seth asked, looking ashamed to be asking Dean for aid.

"I'll think about it," Dean said curtly, closing the window. Immediately afterwards, he turned to Roman for advice.

"Do you have any idea what Vince will do to you if you let him die out there?" Roman questioned.

"Fine," Dean groaned. He rolled the window back down. "Get in the back," he commanded. "But only because I don't want to be faced with murder charges after we get out of this." Seth, for once, was happy to comply. A tense silence filled the air once the car door shut behind him.

"So," Roman asked, eager to break the silence, "How has everyone's day been?"

"It was great, thanks for asking," Dean retorted. "It would still be great. But somebody went and got us stranded in the middle of a blizzard." He turned and glared pointedly at Seth.

"It's not my fault you lost control of your car," Seth grumbled.

"This isn't even my car!" Dean exploded.

"Shut up, both of you!" Roman shouted, causing the other two to wince. "If I hear one more argument, I will throw you out into the snow and lock the doors." He glared at each of them in turn, smirking with satisfaction as they recoiled from his intensely irate gaze. "Apologize," he demanded sternly.

"Sorry," the other two men mumbled.

"Don't either of you remember any of the good times we had?" Roman enquired. "Before WrestleMania 30?"

"Yeah, of course," Dean countered. "I just don't want to talk about it."

"Sure you do," Roman said playfully, gently nudging the grumpy Lunatic Fringe. "It'll help pass the time."

"He's got a point," Seth noted.

"Fine," Dean sighed, sounding defeated. "Tell us a story."

_To be continued…_

_Yes, this story _has_ been released ridiculously late. Initially, I was going to post this in February. Obviously, that didn't happen, so I'm putting this out there now. Enjoy._


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I still don't own the WWE or the Shield.**

Sporting a triumphant grin, Roman began, "It was a warm summer day in Tampa Bay, Florida, and a certain group of three friends was bored out of their skulls…"

"Could we skip the theatrics, please?" Dean complained. "I want to get to the part where Seth almost gets swallowed by a shark."

"For your information," Seth retorted, "That was a dolphin. It wasn't going to eat me."

"What did I say about arguing?" Roman asked. Dean grumbled something unintelligible, but quickly quieted down.

"As I was saying," Roman continued. "It was summer and we were bored…"

_xX(Flashback)Xx_

"It's hot in here," Dean groaned, sprawled in a chair he had pulled over to the air conditioner.

"It isn't that bad," Roman retorted. "It's actually kind of cool outside."

"Not all of us had the luxury of being raised in Florida, Roman," Seth noted.

"Hey," Dean said suddenly, "We're in Tampa Bay, right?"

"Yes," Roman answered, giving him a strange look. "I don't know why you're realizing this now."

"I mean, there's a beach here," Dean explained. "Since it's ninety degrees outside, we should go. It'll be fun!"

"I don't see why not," Seth mused. "Roman? What do you think?"

"It'll be crowded at this time of day," Roman pointed out.

"All the more reason to go," Dean countered. "We'll have a better chance of not being recognized."

"Alright," Roman sighed. "Go get ready, then."

After a relatively short walk from the hotel, the Shield arrived at the beach. As Roman had previously predicted, it was incredibly crowded. Upon reaching the sand, Dean immediately challenged Seth to a race to the water. "Last one there has to buy ice cream later!" he proclaimed as he charged across the sand.

"Is that right?" Seth called, running after him. "You can eat my dust!"

Roman watched with amusement as Dean attempted to spring gracefully over an abandoned sandcastle. The doomed leap ended with Dean hopelessly face-down in the sand. Seth easily jogged past him and reached the water first.

"No fair," Dean grumbled once he had joined his friend in the ocean.

"It's not my fault you tried to jump over that sandcastle," Seth protested.

"Whatever you say, Seth," Dean said, trying to sound casual. He then suddenly scooped up some seawater and dumped it on Seth's head. "Aha!" he yelled victoriously. "Payback!"

"That's how it's going to go, eh?" Seth enquired, blinking saltwater from his eyes. "Two can play at that game."

A fierce battle ensued, with each participant trying to get the other as soaked as he possibly could. They even went as far as integrating a few basic wrestling moves into the skirmish, all the while attempting not to draw too much attention to themselves. While watching his two friends playfully clash, Roman decided to use stealth and surprise to overcome both of them at once. He grinned deviously; they wouldn't see it coming.

Moving with the laboriously slow gait of a stalking predator, Roman made his silent approach. He picked up a floating bucket, under the assumption that the owner wouldn't miss it for two seconds. Discreetly filling it with water, he slowly approached Dean and Seth.

Just before he was sure they would look up and notice him, Roman rapidly emptied the contents of the bucket on their heads. Needless to say, the shocked looks on their faces were rather hilarious. "Didn't see that one coming, did you?" he asked, laughing.

"I think that goes without saying," Seth said.

Suddenly, the Shield heard a small, but audible gasp not far from them. Turning, they found a rather young boy, no older than seven, held afloat by a miniature inner tube. Apparently, the owner of the bucket had come looking for his possession. Roman promptly dropped the object in question.

"You're the Shield," the boy gasped.

"Uh, no we're not," Dean countered quickly, looking to his friends for support. "We just look a lot like them. Hey, is this your bucket?" He lightly tossed the hollow plastic container in the kid's direction, hoping that it would distract him.

The kid didn't even bother trying to catch it. "I know I've seen you guys on the TV," he noted, paddling closer.

"We've never been on television," Dean argued. "My name's… Uh… Dave."

"No," the kid laughed. "You're Dean Ambrose."

Seth pulled Dean aside slightly. "Dean," he sighed, "Put simply, you suck at lying. Let me handle this." He moved closer to the young child and said, "Alright, kid, you caught us. We're here on top secret business for the WWE. If you tell anyone, our cover will be blown. Got that?" The kid nodded. "Remember," Seth added, sinking slowly beneath the waves, "We're not here."

The kid collected his bucket and paddled away, still wearing an awestruck expression on his face. Seth resurfaced not far from the rest of the Shield. "Kids will believe anything," he chuckled.

"Except me apparently," Dean grumbled.

"Don't worry, Dean," Roman assured him, "You'll get the hang of it eventually."

A short time later, Dean spotted a silvery fin jutting out from beneath the water. "Hey, guys," he asked, pointing, "Is that what I think it is?"

Roman squinted slightly at the fin. "Shark?" he suggested.

"That's what I thought," Dean responded, backing away from the creature. Seth, who was, for whatever reason, engrossed in looking for seashells, did not move.

"Seth," Roman said, "Don't look now, but there's a shark right there. Just come towards me. Slowly."

Turning his attention from the seafloor, Seth gave Roman a confused look. "What are you talking about?" he asked. "There's no shark here."

Rolling his eyes, Dean pointed wordlessly at the fin. "But that's not a…" Seth began.

"Don't argue with me," Roman ordered. "I happen to know that belongs to a shark. Come on, let's get out of here."

_xX(End of Flashback)Xx_

Dean clapped slowly and said in monotone, "That was fantastic, Roman."

"Nothing's changed, has it?" Seth chuckled from the backseat. "You still suck at lying." Dean snorted, but surprisingly did not say anything in his own defense.

"Anyone else have a story?" Roman questioned.

"I've got one!" Seth piped up.

"Please, tell us everything," Dean said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "We'd all love to hear your story."

"Dean," Roman warned.

"Fine, fine," Dean grumbled.

_To be continued…_


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: Yep, I still don't own anything.**

Seth remained silent for a minute or two. There was no sound aside from the wind and the quiet idling of the engine. Dean groaned suddenly. "Unlike what you seem to believe," he said, "Some of us are bored out of our minds."

"Quiet," Seth snapped. "I'm trying to think."

"You specifically said you had a story already," Dean retorted. "Now, talk."

"Alright," Seth said, throwing his hands up in defeat.

_xX(Flashback)Xx_

"Are you guys sure about this?" Seth enquired, peering uncertainly through the doors.

"What? Are you scared of roller skating?" Dean taunted.

"No," Seth protested, following the other two further into the roller skating rink.

Shortly afterwards, the three of them were each wobbling on their own set of wheels. Almost immediately, Seth slipped and fell down. This, of course, caused Dean to laugh at him.

"Like you'll do much better," Seth growled, quaveringly pulling himself upright.

"I've done this tons of times," Dean stated dismissively, propelling himself rather shakily forward. A few mere seconds later, he nearly missed saving himself from smashing into the wall.

"Yeah, years ago," Seth scoffed.

"I can still skate better than you," Dean pointed out.

"I'll make you eat those words!" Seth declared, unsteadily moving away from the bench in a determined manner.

"Can't we do something normal without competing for once?" Roman asked no one in particular.

"You get back here!" Dean yelled after Seth, pushing himself away from the wall. Realizing he was being completely ignored, Roman sighed.

Having gotten a hold on the railing around the rink, Seth was speeding along quite nicely. Dean, meanwhile, had had the same idea and was quickly closing in. Soon, the inevitable collision occurred. "What was that for?" Seth snapped.

"Well, these things don't exactly have brakes," Dean shot back.

"This is why we can't have nice things," Roman noted, coasting past them.

"Show-off!" Dean accused.

"We should show him what we can do," Seth suggested. He clambered to his feet and dragged Dean along with him.

"So now we're working together all of a sudden?" Dean enquired, a mischievous gleam in his eyes.

"Why not?" Seth answered with a shrug and a rather roguish look of his own.

With some difficulty, Seth and Dean managed to catch up to Roman. "On three?" Dean asked.

"On three," Seth confirmed "One, two, three!"

Simultaneously, Seth and Dean managed to push forward and force Roman into the railing. "Got you," they chorused when he looked at them questioningly.

"Really funny, guys," Roman called.

Some time later, things had become relatively quiet between the three. "This is getting kinda boring," Dean grumbled, running his hand lightly along the railing.

"This was your idea," Seth pointed out. "So, you can't complain."

"I didn't know we'd just be going in circles the whole time," Dean retorted.

Seth smirked suddenly. "Do you want to race?" he asked.

"You're on," Dean replied. He rocketed forward, practically all sense of unsteadiness gone. "First one back here wins!" he called over his shoulder.

"You got a head start," Seth complained, chasing after the Lunatic Fringe.

Not long after the race began, Roman promptly ended it by stopping right in the middle of the lane. "What's the big idea?" Dean asked angrily.

"Oh, I'm sorry," Roman replied, turning towards the other two with a roguish smirk. "Did you want to pass through here?"

"Uh, yeah," Dean answered.

"If that's the case," Roman said, "You must answer me these questions three."

"Not again," Seth groaned, shaking his head.

"Shouldn't have let him watch that," Dean muttered, promptly introducing his palm to his face.

"What is your name?" Roman asked.

"You know who I am," Dean growled. "We've been in the same tag team for the past seven months."

"What is your quest?" Roman continued.

"Uh, me and Seth here are trying to race," Dean explained heatedly. "You're kinda in the way."

"What is your favorite color?" Roman concluded.

"If you don't know that after seven months, Roman," Dean sighed, "That's just sad."

"You guys are no fun," Roman grumbled, grudgingly letting them pass.

_xX(End of Flashback)Xx_

"Are you happy now, Dean?" Seth enquired.

"Oh, what was that, Seth?" Dean responded. "I kinda tuned you out for the past fifteen minutes." He received a scowl for his trouble. "By the way," he continued, "How about you call for some help while you're in a talking mood."

"Sorry," Seth growled, reaching around the front seats and showing Dean his phone. "No signal."

"Guys, please," Roman sighed wearily. "Dean, why don't you tell a story?"

"What if I don't want to?" Dean questioned, folding his arms defiantly.

"There's no other way to entertain ourselves," Roman explained. "Besides, I don't want to have to listen to you two argue for the next couple hours."

"Alright," Dean grumbled, "But I still don't like it."

"That's fine by me," Roman replied.


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: To quote Dean Ambrose: Nope.**

Dean rubbed his hands together maliciously. "Ooh, I've got a good one," he chuckled.

"Let me guess," Seth sighed. "It's at my expense."

"What else?" Dean replied.

_xX(Flashback)Xx_

The day happened to be April 1st, which also happened to be one of Dean's favorite days of the year. After all, he was able to pull pranks on friends and foes alike without much consequence. The worst anyone else could do was to get him back, but Dean knew every trick in the book. That's why he was the master.

This particular April Fool's Day would be especially enjoyable. He had Roman on his side and his target, Seth, was clueless.

("I was hardly clueless," Seth sighed irritably. "You kept staring at me with that evil look in your eye."

"Just let me tell my story," Dean snapped.)

"Roman, I'm going to need your help with the groceries," Dean said, appearing in the doorway after being gone for about an hour

"Okay," Roman replied, getting up from where he'd been waiting for this moment. "Hope you didn't forget the cheese."

"Oh, don't worry," Dean chuckled slightly. "There'll be plenty of cheese."

Once the door was closed and they were well on their way to the elevators, the two quickly dropped the act. "What was with all the code talk?" Roman asked. "I still don't know what this 'cheese' is."

"It'll all be clear in a few minutes," Dean responded cryptically.

They made the trek down to the hotel parking lot, where Dean's rental car waited with the mother-load of tricks. Dean opened the trunk and started unloading. "Is this the 'cheese'?" Roman asked, holding up a canister of Silly String.

"No," Dean answered. "What in the world made you think that?"

"I was thinking of that cheese that comes in cans," Roman stated defensively. "Let's just get this stuff back to the room."

They returned to the room, laden with the paper grocery bags Dean was using to disguise the tricks. Seth was lounging on the couch and glanced up when they entered. "That's a lot of groceries," he noted. "You know we're only staying for tonight before we have to move, right?"

"Don't worry," Dean replied. "We'll get through this without any problems."

"How?" Seth enquired, "Are you throwing a party?"

"Just stop asking questions," Dean groaned. "You'll see soon enough."

"Speaking of which," Roman said, "Dean was telling me he forgot something really important."

"And?" Seth asked, eyebrows raised in suspicion.

"Since we have some frozen stuff here that needs to be put away right now," Dean added, picking up on Roman's ploy, "We were kind of hoping you would go get it."

"Fine," Seth sighed, getting up. "What do you need?"

Dean put the bag he had beside the fridge, which was luckily nowhere near Seth. He then picked up a pen and a piece of paper and wrote down a few items. "Here," he said, handing Seth the paper. "It shouldn't be too hard for you."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence, Dean," Seth murmured, shaking his head and exiting.

Dean grinned excitedly. "That should hold him up for a while," he chuckled. He knelt down and pulled an onion out of the bag. Before Roman could ask what it was for, he explained, "When this thing is covered in caramel, it's impossible to tell it apart from a caramel apple. It's genius."

Suddenly, Seth made a reappearance. "Dean, I'm going to need the key," he noted. His gaze settled on the Lunatic Fringe, or, more accurately, the onion in his hand. "Why do you have an onion?" he questioned.

"It's for dinner, sheesh," Dean snapped. "The keys are over there."

(About half an hour later)

"It's perfect," Dean noted, looking over the set-up with a keen eye.

"Do you think he'll fall for all of it?" Roman asked.

"Not a chance," Dean noted. "Most of this is just the backup plans."

"Whatever you say," Roman sighed.

The two of them then lay in wait for their soon-to-be victim. Soon afterwards, Seth finally reappeared with whatever items Dean had previously jotted down. The two mischief-makers greeted him as they usually would have. The hardest part was, by far, acting as though nothing were out of the ordinary.

"Is something wrong, guys?" Seth enquired after a minute.

Briefly wondering what damage he would cause to his brain by hitting his head against the wall, Dean hastily answered, "Nothing's wrong, Seth. Why are you always worrying?"

Roman quietly cleared his throat, indicating to Dean that it was about time they got this show on the road. The Lunatic Fringe nodded slightly in consent. "Where'd the remote go?" Roman asked, acting as though he were looking about for the item in question.

"Oh, it's in the bedroom over there," Dean replied, gesturing towards a closed door across the room.

"Why is it in there?" Roman sighed, making his way towards the room. He allowed the door to close most of the way behind him. He spent a few minutes securing the clear plastic wrap across the door. After waiting a little while longer for good measure, he called out, "I can't find the darn thing!"

Dean and Seth looked at each other expectantly. "I'm trying to figure out dinner," Dean pointed out, shrugging.

Seth sighed and walked over to the partially closed door. Fortunately, nothing seemed strange to him. As predicted, he ran straight into the plastic wrap. For a minute, he was frantic, trying desperately to figure out just what this invisible barrier was.

"Got you," Roman chuckled.

"That's not funny," Seth growled.

"Oh, sure it is," Dean retorted. He brought what seemed like a perfectly normal plate of three caramel apples over to them. "You want one?" he enquired.

"I hope this isn't some stupid trick," Seth grumbled.

A few short seconds later, Roman shot Dean a strange look. "What the heck, man?" he asked.

Dean smiled innocently. "Can't let Seth have all the fun," he replied.

"You didn't know who was going to get it, did you," Roman sighed.

Shrugging, Dean explained, "Well, I did give the plate a little spin. It was kind of like Russian Roulette, only a lot less deadly."

"I worry about you sometimes," Roman grumbled, promptly dropping the caramel-covered onion in the garbage can.

_xX(End of Flashback)Xx_

"That was probably the best day ever," Dean noted, staring off jubilantly.

"It was not," Seth protested. "You set up all those traps for me to run into. That's not cool."

"But it was hilarious," Dean retorted.

The two of them bickered in this manner for quite a while. After perhaps ten or fifteen minutes later, Seth suddenly fell silent. "What?" Dean asked, confused about the abrupt halt in their argument.

"Shh," Seth hushed him. "Why hasn't Roman stopped up yet?"

Dean quickly glanced at the occupant of the passenger seat. "He's sleeping," he noted. "Nothing unusual there."

"Are you sure?" Seth asked uncertainly, worming his way halfway between the front seats. He nudged Roman awake. "Roman, is something the matter?"

"I don't know" Roman answered blearily. "I don't feel very good."

"If you're gonna puke," Dean instructed, "Do it outside the car."

"It's not like that," Roman protested, rubbing clumsily at his eyes. "I'm cold and tired."

"Aren't we all?" Dean sighed.

"He seems a lot paler than normal," Seth observed. "Doesn't that usually mean something bad?"

"How am I supposed to know? I'm not a doctor," Dean snapped, pulling his phone from his pocket and tapping violently at the screen. "Besides, I'm still not getting a signal in this stupid snowstorm."

Seth turned around and squinted through the back window. "Still no sign of a snowplow," he declared. "What do we do?"

"If anything, we probably have to keep him warm or something," Dean mused. He reached over Roman and dug around in the glove-box. After a few agonizingly silent minutes, he finally said, "Luckily for us, whoever had this car last left a hat in here." He drew his hand out of the glove-box and put a well-worn woolen hat on Roman's head.

"Well," Seth prompted, "What now?"

"Nothing," Dean replied. "We don't really have anything else to do but sit and wait."

'That's great," Seth grumbled. Dean grunted in a close approximation of agreement.

_Hold it! I have one last thing to say: Curse Writer's Block!_


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: If you think I own the WWE by now, you would be dreadfully wrong.**

An hour or so later, there was still no sign of incoming rescue. "I spy…" Dean said, peering through the windshield, "Something white."

"Is it snow?" Seth asked. He was now sprawled haphazardly across the back seat, absently studying the ceiling of the car.

"How'd you guess?" Dean muttered.

"Well, that's really the only thing out there," Seth replied, shrugging.

"This game is stupid," Dean groaned. "Anything else you can think of?"

"I don't know," Seth sighed. "How's Roman?"

"Still breathing," Dean noted, checking the occupant of the passenger seat once again. "He's not looking any better, though."

Seth sat up suddenly. "I don't think it's a good idea to stay here," he declared. "If we do, Roman could…" He trailed off, not wanting to think of what could happen.

"What do you suggest we do?" Dean snapped. "There's nothing we can do for him right now."

"You can't possibly believe that," Seth protested. "There has to be something…"

"Would you wake up, Seth?" Dean barked. "We're stuck and we can't do anything to change that."

"Well, you can sit here and be useless," Seth retorted. "I'm going out to see if I can flag somebody down." With that, he swiftly exited the vehicle, briefly letting in an icy blast of wind.

"Nice job letting in the wind, idiot!" Dean shouted, even though he knew Seth couldn't hear him.

"Dean, stop calling Seth an idiot," Roman mumbled. "That's not how you treat your friends."

"Don't you remember? He's not my…" Dean began. He cut himself short when he glanced at his friend. "You're delirious. Right. Wonderful," he huffed, turning to glare out the window."

Slight movement in the side-view mirror caught Dean's eye. Upon closer inspection, he confirmed that it was only Seth pacing at the side of the road, keeping a sharp lookout for potential rescuers. He breathed a heavy sigh and looked back at Roman, who was dazedly staring out the windshield. "I'm only doing this because I don't want you dead," he clarified.

Uttering a short string of profanities under his breath, Dean left the car and trudged through the snowstorm to join Seth. "Nice weather we're having," he noted, sounding almost as if he weren't joking.

Seth jumped slightly and looked about wildly for the source of the sound. When he figured out who it was, he relaxed (if only slightly) and returned his attention to the yet-unplowed road. "What are you doing out here?" he enquired. "I thought you were going to keep an eye on Roman."

"I'm here to help watch for cars," Dean stated, squinting into the whirling blizzard. "You know how they say that two heads are better than one."

The two of them stood shivering in the snow for what seemed like a long time. "Am I hallucinating," Dean finally asked, "Or is that a light?"

Peering in the direction Dean was pointing, Seth said, "No, you're right. Either that or I'm hallucinating too."

Understandably excited over the prospect of rescue, the two men jumped about at the side of the road, waving their arms and shouting in the hope of flagging down the approaching driver. All at once, the light disappeared, presumably because the car had turned down a different street.

Disappointment settled heavily on the two former Shield members. "Well that's great," Dean grumbled.

"There'll be another one," Seth said, struggling to hold onto hope for the sake of his sanity. "Hopefully."

Some time later, Dean complained, "Man, I'm cold."

"What do you want me to do about it?" Seth snapped, "Huddle with you for warmth?"

"With you?" Dean growled, showing disgust at the mere notion. "Not a chance."

"You aren't still mad over what happened last year, are you?" Seth sighed.

"What do you think, Sherlock?" Dean retorted.

"Even you can't deny that both you and Roman have benefitted from that," Seth objected.

"Name one thing that's gone right for us since then," Dean ordered defiantly.

"I'll do you one better," Seth responded. "One, the two of you are more popular with the fans than before. Secondly, both of you have had major title shots in the past handful of months."

"Both of which you messed up," Dean observed.

"That's not the point," Seth noted. "The point is that all three of us are better off apart than we ever were together."

"Here we go again," Dean criticized. "You're the one not getting the point. Roman and I were both screwed over and you were part of it both times. I don't think that's a coincidence."

"I did what was best for all three of us," Seth retorted. "It just didn't exactly go as planned."

"That's easy for you to say," Dean growled, "You're the WWE World Heavyweight Champion."

"What if I said that Trips would have fired all three of us if I hadn't done what I did?" Seth blurted.

"Wait, what?" Dean asked, surprised by the sudden proclamation.

"You heard me," Seth snarled.

"So, you mean we were almost fired?" Dean questioned, quite shocked.

"He said that he needed to 'spice up the competition' in the WWE," Seth explained heatedly, making use of air quotes. "Things were getting 'too predictable'."

"What are you trying to say?" Dean queried skeptically.

"I didn't want to do it," Seth said, abruptly sounding quite upset. "But, unless I wanted to throw our careers out the window, I had to."

"That's…" Dean muttered, mentally searching for the correct word. He looked up suddenly at the road and, upon getting a good look at it, declared, "Truck."

Seth gave him a strange look. He, of all people, knew quite well that Dean was not usually one to shy away from foul language. "What are you…?" he began.

"No, seriously!" Dean cried, pointing at the road with a sense of urgency. "Truck!"

Indeed, a pickup truck was trundling along the road, a plow-like appendage attached to the front. "Yes!" the two men shouted, giving each other a high-five. The immediate aftermath was uncomfortable to say the least.

"Sorry, wasn't thinking," Seth apologized awkwardly.

"Right," Dean murmured just as uneasily.

In order to counteract the discomfort, they turned their attention to the driver, who had luckily spotted them and was slowing down. Seth walked up to the window when the vehicle had stopped and explained their situation while Dean went to wake Roman up.

Needless to say, Roman was rather uncooperative, since he was on the very fringe of consciousness. "C'mon, Roman," Dean growled, "Work with me." He wound up half-dragging his friend towards the idling truck. "Use your legs!" he snapped.

Suddenly, Seth popped up on Roman's other side and, without asking the Lunatic Fringe if he needed it, began to help. Dean looked at him, reasonably surprised, but he did not protest. With the two of them working together, it was much easier getting their barely conscious friend into the vehicle that would rescue them from the unforgiving cold.

It was difficult to be sure at that moment, but Seth was convinced that Dean whispered "Thanks" once everything was said and done.

_I punched Writer's Block in the face today, guys. It felt great. :-D_


End file.
